


An Etherian Shack

by steelrunner



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canadian Shack, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Huddling For Warmth, Pre-Season/Series 04, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelrunner/pseuds/steelrunner
Summary: Entrapta’s face appears above him, shadowy in the gray light. “You were in the cold for too long,” she says. “Try not to move too much.”
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 220





	An Etherian Shack

**Author's Note:**

> After rereading Fullmetal Alchemist I realize I’m probably underestimating the effect of cold on robotic prosthetics to a dire degree, but we’re here for cuddling, not restorative maintenance.

Hordak wakes up as he’s being dragged onto a small, rickety cot by hands he doesn’t immediately recognize. The urge to jerk away is instinctual, but when he tries to move, his body is stiff with cold; the contact ports of his robotics are tight and aching. He can feel frost crusting on the edges of his armor.

Entrapta’s face appears above him, shadowy in the gray light. “You were in the cold for too long,” she says. “Try not to move too much.”

Hordak subsides as Entrapta turns away. The shelter they’ve found looks to be a decommissioned waystation - barely more than a one-room shack, probably abandoned years ago. Entrapta is busy rummaging through the room’s contents, using her hair when her hands are busy. 

The shack yields a few small gifts: Entrapta uncovers a pile of mouldering blankets that she throws over Hordak like a cocoon. A pack of crumped tinder and flint throws a spark for the furnace, which turns into a roaring fire with some careful tending and feeding. As they warm their hands by it, Entrapta looks over at him. “We should probably remove your armor - that metal’s not gonna react well to the cold, even once you warm up.”

Hordak exhales slowly. “Yes. Fine.”

Entrapta helps him struggle upright, removes each piece of his exoskeleton, and then gently lays him back down afterwards. He’s so distracted by the strange vulnerability of the situation that he doesn’t realize what’s happening until Entrapta yawns loudly and stretches. 

He glances around for a second cot, but of course there isn’t one, and Entrapta can’t sleep on the cold dirt floor. They’re going to share, obviously. Entrapta probably means them to do so - he has vague memories of Etherians using shared body heat to preserve health in cold temperatures. The thought is…

“Comfortable?” Entrapta asks. She scoots the cot a little closer to the furnace. Hordak nods.

“Can I have your shirt?” She follows this non sequiter with, “According to the Horde wilderness survival guide, we’re supposed to wear as few layers as possible when warming up.”

A nonsensical idea, but Hordak pulls his over-tunic off and hands it to her anyway. “Perhaps you should remove some of yours,” he suggests without thinking, and there’s no time to issue a correction before Entrapta nods thoughtfully and shoves her pants down. He’s going to die. He’s going to expire tonight, possibly this very minute, choking on his own mortification.

Somehow Hordak manages to both hold his tongue and avert his eyes as Entrapta slides into the makeshift bed next to him, only inches away. She’s not naked, only in her underwear - he can tell from the rustle of cloth on cloth - but that is still far more than he’s been exposed to for centuries. She is, usually. To distract himself, he asks, “How long until someone sees our distress beacon?”

“Probably eight to twelve hours,” Entrapta says. “Four hours to spot it, two hours to decode it, up to six hours to prepare and deploy the appropriate response team.” They’re not quite touching, but he can still feel the gentle warmth of her skin. After a moment, she adds, “I hope they remember to bring food with them. Those rations in the cabinet did not look edible.”

Hordak rumbles agreement. A short rest might be useful while they’re waiting, but as soon as feeling comes back to his extremities he should do something with himself - boost the distress beacon, perhaps. In a minute.

Next to him, Entrapta shivers.

* * *

When Hordak opens his eyes again, the room has gone dark. The furnace offers a sliver of warm, rosy light from its low-burning coals, through the wave of heat from it is nothing compared to the warmth twined around him.

Entrapta stirs against him. Her head is tucked under his chin, and when he had rolled over to face her sometime in the night, she had put her arm around his waist. She lets out a long exhale. “H’rdak…? ’s it time yet?”

“No,” Hordak says slowly. He goes to move and stops, hesitant. Embarrassment is the furthest thing from his mind right now; he can’t recall the last time he’s been in such close contact with someone, if he ever has. Her breath against his throat, her fingers brushing his spine, her thighs pressed against his. 

Hordak relaxes in small increments, back into her warmth. No one is watching them. The only ones who might care are hundreds of miles away. Hundreds, or millions of thousands. They’re safe here.

“Go back to sleep,” Hordak says, and lets her squirm a little closer. “I’ll keep watch.”


End file.
